


Sanders Sides Part 1

by LadyoftheWoods



Series: Sanders Sides [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 22:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18926434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: After a fight with Roman, Virgil takes some drastic measures.





	Sanders Sides Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I recently became obsessed with this series again, and I have tons of fan theories about Virgil, so this is my exploration into those ideas.

It was dark. Not unusual for his room, it tended to be dark and gloomy, lit by scattered purple tinted lights and black heady smelling candles. His things were strewn about, clothes scattered over the floor, bed a nest of blankets, pillows and discarded socks. Papers were posted on the walls, sketches of monsters and disturbing scenes, notebooks next to the bed, filled with scribbles, fragments of dreams and notes and feelings. All the things he couldn’t and wouldn’t say to the others.  
He slammed the door behind him, resting his fists against it, head leaning on the cool wood, trying to steady his breathing from the ragged gasps it was coming in now.  
“Virgil, that’s not what I meant!” Roman called from the other side of the door, unable to enter with Virgil inside and unwilling to open the door. His will kept it shut tight.  
“You said exactly what you meant. You always do, Roman.” He spat the name out, a taste like vinegar on his tongue, acid making his throat burn, keeping back the tears.  
“Virgil please, open the door and we can talk this out kiddo.” Patton. His worried voice almost made him give in, just because he hated seeing him upset the most. Of all of them, Patton was the most innocent, what he thought of as the best of them. Everything he wasn’t.  
“We should probably give him time to cool off, in most cases once time is between events the emotions that go with them are less volatile and things can be worked out more, well, logically.” Virgil rolled his eyes, sitting on the bed and pulling his hood over his head and his knees to his chest, wrapping himself tightly in a large comforter.  
Their noises and discussion were muffled from the safety of his nest, eventually fading completely as they left, probably discussing him somewhere else. Probably talking about him behind his back. About how he always over reacts, how he’s useless, how he does nothing for Thomas besides scare him.  
That’s what Roman had said, anyway. Not those words, exactly. But that’s what he meant. Angrily, he grabbed a note book, freeing his arms from under the blankets, sketching out Roman’s profile, his stupid sash, his useless sword, his idiotic outfit. He was making the lines too thick and dark, putting too much pressure on the pencil tip, and it snapped suddenly, leaving a ragged streak across the page.  
Even in this drawing, Roman looked perfect. Even in crude lines and lead streaked smears, he could envision Roman’s stupid smile, and over enunciated voice, running off on some idiotic adventure that would get Thomas killed, not that anyone other than him actually cared about danger. Patton would follow anyone anywhere, and Logan would be too busy studying statistics and coming to a scientific conclusion, by the time he got involved Thomas would already be in danger. Did anyone ever listen to him? No. Of course not. He was just the worried one, the silly afraid of everything one, the scaredy cat one, the flight not fight one. The problematic one.  
He let out a strangled yell, a sound of anger and frustration and pure sadness, ripping the drawing roughly out of the sketchbook and tossing it crumpled across the room. It didn’t make nearly satisfying enough a sound.  
He stood, shaking in anger, fists clenched. He grabbed a ceramic owl and threw it against the wall, it shattered with satisfying zeal, a bright, clear sound. He threw a lamp next, glass bulb shattering, metal stand chipping away the wood of the wall. He knocked over the bookshelf of sketchbooks and archaic tomes, books scattering across the floor, sending loose papers fluttering through the air. He fell to his knees and slammed the ground with his fists, tears finally running silently down his face, heart cracked and bleeding.  
They were right. He was useless. He couldn’t do anything. What was even the point. Thomas didn’t need him. They didn’t need him. They all had their happy friendship circle of rainbows and sparkles. He was just holding them all back. He felt a chill run down his spine, the hair on his neck stand up.  
“What do you want?” He asked, voice raw and thick, unable to muster the venom necessary to deal with this Side.  
“Me? Why would I want anything? In fact, I wouldn’t be able to get in here if you didn’t want me to. Why lock out all your so-called friends, but let me inside?” The voice circled him, and Virgil looked up at the yellow eyed, snake skinned face of Deceit. He dropped his gaze, realizing his fist was so tight he left crescent moon marks on his palm.  
“You know I can’t stop you from getting in here, and I’m not in the mood for one of your visits right now.” Virgil muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.  
“Why so down? Oh, I see. Have you finally realized what you’ve known from the start? That they don’t want you? That you shouldn’t have trusted them to start with? That the only real friend, the only one who ever truly looked out for you, was me?” His long-nailed hand tilted Virgil’s chin up, feeling his tremors.  
“That’s not true.” He whispered, slapping Deceit’s hand away and glaring at the floor.  
“Sweet, poor “Virgil”. All alone in the world, no one who understands you. Understands what you do, how important you are. They don’t really know you, they don’t even know your name. You know you only have to ask and I can make everything better.” The yellow eyes were all Virgil’s dark ones could see. They seemed to glow, seemed to suck him in.  
“they’ll never understand us. You tried so hard and still they refuse to see. We’re just trying to protect Thomas from himself. They’d rather we didn’t exist at all.”  
Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself with a breath in, out. He opened his eyes, glowing purple in the dim light, unwaveringly meeting Deceit’s, hopeless and empty. He hadn’t said anything he himself hadn’t already been thinking.  
“Just make it all go away.” He whispered, biting his lip. Deceit smiled, black smoke coiling up his legs, around his arms, bright eyes and a white, sharp smile grinning through the black.  
“Your wish is my command.” Virgil closed his eyes as the smoke snake struck.


End file.
